


Seeds

by Betz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betz/pseuds/Betz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to the LiveJournal 2016 SSHG-Promptfest: http://sshg-promptfest.livejournal.com/</p><p>Prompt: Retelling of any mythology story with Severus and Hermione as the main characters (SS/HG or SS & HG)<br/>Prompter: leontinabowie</p><p>Summary:  Hermione hears an old tale told in preparation for her trip to Eleusis and Athens, where she is soon to be an initiate in the Great Mysteries.  Listen, children of Hecate and Prometheus, as the centaur Lygaeus tells his tale, and as Hermione clearly envisions the story as it is spun. (SS/HG)</p><p>Note: This is a retelling of the Persephone and Hades story. It does not involve abduction or rape, and is told from a different perspective where she willingly goes with him.  This retelling is fashioned after the slightly more formal style of prose I have encountered when reading Greek myths, and the way the stories are worded and translated from original ancient texts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leontinabowie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=leontinabowie).



> Thank you to my wonderful beta, JuneW. You rock, as always.

**Part I**

"Come, children of Hecate, and gather ‘round." The centaur, Lygaeus, beckoned the budding youths from their mothers' sides as the witches gathered the early flowers of spring in their baskets that hovered next to them.

Gamboling, the adolescents came, flaunting their youthful and ungainly energy like eager colts, yet on the cusp of graceful adulthood. A few, who had matured faster than the others, sauntered along. Their carriage and bearing signified that they were close to coming into full bloom, as the flowers in the field would be at the beginning of summer.

One such witch who carefully made her way, behind the others who had rushed ahead, was Hermione, named after Hermes, messenger and emissary to the gods. Among being a patron of many things, Hermes was the patron god of literature and poetry. Hermione was aptly named for him, for she did love reading each and every precious scroll she came across. Of her contemporaries, she was one of the few who read.

Now settled upon the newly verdant grass, the youths turned their attention to their teacher, Lygaeus. Even Hermione dutifully rolled up the parchment she had been reading, brushing a fond hand over it once closed, and her mind wandering fondly towards thoughts of who lent her that scroll. She had been reading instead of harvesting the tender plum blossoms, one of the first flowers to herald the rapid approach of spring.

Surveying his students, Lygaeus announced, "It has come to my attention that most of you have finally reached the age where you will be traveling to far-away Eleusis and Athens to participate in the ceremony of the Great Mysteries. There you will be with the children of Prometheus, who are not gifted with magic, such as we are."

There was a great murmur amongst the ephebic witches and wizards seated around the centaur. Many had never mingled with these non-magical mortals and heard of their strange ways, such as their need of special tools to create fire and that wands did not respond to their touch, being nothing more than common sticks in their hands.

Hermione, who was born among these non-magical humans, had been sent away as a child to live amongst the children of Hecate. Here she could learn and control the magic gifted to her by the gods, and she was chosen by Hecate from other common mortals.

This left Hermione to being singled out at times, sometimes the object of ridicule, and, more often as of late, the object of desire from many of the wizards who had discovered the subtle charms of the fairer sex.

Originally having lived amongst these common mortal men, Hermione was not afraid or wary, as one witch beside her, Desma, was. 

"I hear that mortal men wash their faces with sheep dung in order to make themselves more attractive," Desma said with great authority.

"That is complete and utter nonsense!" Hermione countered, somewhat insulted by such a false rumor. "I remember my father, who is a plain mortal man, and he did no such thing. He washed with water like we do."

There were other groups exchanging wild rumors about the mortal men and woman who lived in the villages down the mountainside, beyond their own remote enclave.

"Hush!" commanded Lygaeus. "The children of Prometheus are not that different from the children of Hecate. There is nothing to fear."

Hermione cast a glance across the meadow towards her adoptive mother, Hestia, who had been teaching her about magic since accepting Hermione into her home. Hestia had been initially wary of Hermione's parents, who had climbed the mountainside in search of the fabled town where witches and wizards lived. It was only the fact that Hermione could see the village so clearly, while they could not, that Hermione's parents eventually found a simple house set at the edge of the village with a widowed witch. Hestia, upon hearing the pleas of the parents, agreed to adopt Hermione and teach her the ways of Hecate's children. In return, Hermione's parents promised to build an altar to Hecate in their home and to bring three sacks of grain to the witch annually, in payment for being the teacher and protector of their daughter. 

 

Lygaeus calmed those gathered around him with a wave of his hand, once more. "To prepare you for your trip to Eleusis, in which you will all participate in the Great Mysteries as initiates, I will tell you the story the goddess of Grain, the giver of food, her daughter, goddess of Spring's Bounty, the Maiden, and the god of the Underworld. The story I share with you is different from the story the children of Prometheus know."

Iduma, a red-headed wizard who had teased Hermione for many years until recently, asked, "Why is the story you're going to tell us different from that of common mortal men?"

"The children of Prometheus have their story handed down from the shepherd boy who witnessed part of the tale I am about to tell. Also, their story is colored, due to how the goddess of Grain has imparted the story through her own oracles, with her own bias. Additionally, the children of Prometheus have interjected the custom of bride kidnapping into their story, a way to explain a custom that is still practiced by some tribes and villages."

"Bride kidnapping!" Iris exclaimed, shocked that a man would whisk away a woman against her will. Should a wizard attempt such a feat with a witch, he would soon find his life cut very short either by curse or poisoned with the first meal she fed her abductor.

"Yes, not all the tribes of the land are as civilized as we or the Athenians, but I assure you, there is nothing to worry about." It took a few more minutes for Lygaeus to calm his students once more. "Now then, if I may continue on and begin the story, as I was told long ago by my great-grandfather, Kheiron, who was taught by Hecate, the goddess herself, who is part of the story I am about to tell."

All those gathered leaned forward, eager for their teacher to finally begin the tale and know the real truth behind the Great Mysteries.

"But before we begin, we must choose names for those gods and goddesses, whose names we do not speak, for you are not yet initiated yet and thereby forbidden to hear or speak their true names. To speak their names without being properly initiated will result in you spending an eternity of the afterlife in the darkest corners of Hades." Looking about his students, Lygaeus asked, "For the purpose of telling our tale: what alternative name – or nickname – shall we give to the Maiden?"

There was a moment of quiet before Iduma was nudged in the ribs by his dark-haired friend, Charis. "How about Hermione," Iduma suggested, casting a knowing smirk at Hermione. She had rejected Iduma's advances recently. Stinging from her rejection, out of spite Iduma had cursed her to be a maiden forever.

Hermione tucked her head down and blushed hotly, remembering that recent encounter. Iduma had been periodically cruel to her. Suddenly when his hormones had recently surged like a stallion's in spring, she was not about to forgive and forget all his past slights and teasing he had casually heaped upon her over the years. 

"Yes, Hermione is a fine name to choose for our story," Lygaeus praised the red-headed youth, ignoring the youth’s triumphant grin. "And now a name for the god of the Underworld, who enchants Hermione's heart?"

"Oh, I know one! Severus!" Desma yelled out.

"How could you, it was a secret!" Hermione hissed under her breath in protest to Desma's suggestion.

Recently, upon asking where Hermione had gotten the scroll in her hand, Hermione had made Desma promise not to tell anyone that it had been loaned to her by Severus. The Potioneer was a seasoned wizard of prime marriageable age who had immigrated many years ago from far-away Umbria, across the sea to the west. Hermione had reluctantly told Desma about how she was rather fond of Severus, who began letting her borrow some of his scrolls to read a few years ago. He would then ask her questions about what she’d read afterwards, as Hestia shopped for potions in his shop. Hermione had hopes that perhaps Severus might see her as something more than a young girl some day. He certainly was no callow youth, like the wizards who sat alongside of Hermione.

"I didn't say anything, it was just a suggestion," Desma countered demurely.

 

"Severus is an unusual name, a foreign one at that, but as the Underworld is another realm altogether, fitting," said Lygaeus. "And the goddess of Grain? A name for her?"

Someone shouted, "Maeja!" 

"An excellent and appropriate name that also means mother." Lygaeus was pleased the youths seemed eager to hear the tale and were participating.

Hermione did not want to sit around and have a story told with her name and the name of the wizard who set her heart aflutter every time she spied him tied together romantically. It would be as if she was wearing her heart set upon her sleeve for all to see. It was hard enough not to blush like the maiden she was when he spoke to her, entranced by his deep and melodious voice, his accent coloring the way he spoke as if he were singing in a low register. But to sit and listen as her and Severus' names were to be interjected into a story, she almost left. However, she wanted to know the true story behind the goddess of the Grain, the Maiden, and the god of the Underworld, especially since it would be important to her pilgrimage to Eleusis and Athens.

"Our story happened a long time ago, long before you, your parents, or grandparents were born," Lygaeus began. "There were no seasons, as the earth was perpetually bountiful by the grace of Maeja, the goddess of the Grain. The children of Prometheus and children of Hecate lived in a world where there was no starvation, and the earth forever provided food and plenty to eat every day. One day, the god of the Sky, Zeus, lay with Maeja. She begat a daughter of astounding beauty and purity, the Maiden that we will call Hermione." The centaur cast his eye toward Hermione in acknowledgment that they were borrowing her name, but it still didn't stop half the tale's listeners from laughing and snickering.

Iduma called out, "Perfect name for a cold fish who'll never let anyone touch her." To punctuate his crude remark, Iduma grabbed at his crotch in a vulgar fashion, which made many of the wizards laugh more and the witches nervously titter in shock of the gesture.

The laughter stopped when Lygaeus swiftly brought down his staff and soundly cracked Iduma upon his moppish crown.

"Ow! What did you do that for?" Iduma sullenly rubbed the top of his head, still cowering in fear of further rebuke from his teacher.

"There is a reason why I have forbidden wands during our lessons, as some of you have proven too childish to restrain yourselves. However, should you, Iduma, continue on with your boorish behavior, then I shall allow Hermione to bring her wand with her and allow her to defend her own good name, while you shall remain defenseless without your own wand. Do I make myself clear?" Lygaeus arched an imperious brow at the pouting boy who was now the center of ridicule, as others snickered behind hands while their eyes glinted with mockery.

Ignoring the red-headed boy who now glared impudently at him, Lygaeus continued. "As I was saying, Hermione was pure and as beautiful as she was brilliant." The centaur stopped to bow his head once more to intone that Hermione was in possession of these qualities herself, besides the goddess for whom they had borrowed her name for this tale. "But Maeja was a protective and possessive mother. For when Hermione came of age and blossomed like a flower, her inner beauty unfolding for all to see, so did she catch the eye of other gods of Olympus."

As Hermione listened, she could imagine every detail told in the story unfold within her mind, as her fingers caressed the scroll rolled up in her lap. It was as if she were watching a play in the village amphitheater, and she was an actor upon the stage. Her eyes became heavy.

~xXx~xXx~xXx~

Standing along the balustrade, Hermione looked down from Mount Olympus. From her spot on high, she could watch the mortals as their simple lives played out. The mortals were being born, growing, falling in love, marrying, having children and eventually dying. This all played out before her eyes, while she remained eternally young.

While Hermione did not desire the experience of growing frail, becoming ill, and dying, she did envy the mortals as she watched them fall in love. The mortal couples would consummate their feelings in the act of love upon the marriage bed, or clandestinely in starlit grassy fields. This would eventually result in children, and she observed the joy brought forth from children.

For a goddess, Hermione was still young, but not so young as to not have experienced the budding desire of wishing to fall in love herself. A seed of hunger for something other than her life as the Maiden had been planted upon her spying of those mortal women in the throes of passion, crying out their lovers' names in a frenzy of coupling.

When Hermione asked her mother, Maeja, about the venereal act that mortals engaged in, lying side-by-side naked and joining together, Maeja forbade Hermione from observing such things. This was because she was the Maiden, and she was to remain pure and untainted from knowledge of such acts that would soil her spirit.

"But is it that different from when we gods conjoin and create children? Do we not love and desire? And when Father lay with you, did you not enjoy it?" Hermione asked, seeking to know more. Her curiosity was begging to be sated with answers that her mother was reluctant to give.

"You're never to know such things, and that is the way of it," Maeja declared, as if the matter was now closed.

"Why is it that Leto, Hebe, Themis and even you, dear mother, may have a lover or husband and know of the joys that common mortal women may know. Yet I am denied such a simple and common pleasure that it seems all others may engage in," Hermione hotly countered, speaking harshly to her mother, her blood becoming feverish with frustration.

"Athena has had no lover, nor will she ever. No man, god, or mortal, will ever make her lie upon her back and welcome them between her legs. She is satisfied with her lot, and so you should be too!"

Hermione protested, turning away and folding her arms across her chest. "But I'm not happy! I want to know what it is like to fall in love and to want a man in that way."

"Do not be so eager to cast aside your cloak of innocence. Knowledge is a fruit that once has been bitten, cannot be untasted. The flavor will linger forever in your mind, forever changing your perception of all new tastes," Maeja warned her daughter.

There was a defiant glint in Hermione's eye. She had seen the way Apollo and Hermes had looked at her. She knew that each had approached Maeja for permission to court her. Hermes had even lent Hermione many scrolls to read, which endeared him further to her bosom. Hermione was disappointed her mother rejected both their pleas to woo her, which only made her ache to know what she was missing all the more. If her mother was not going to allow her a chance to fulfill her desires, she would go and let Apollo or Hermes instruct her in the ways of love – without her mother's approval.

But before Hermione could storm off and begin seeking carnal enlightenment, Maeja grabbed hold of Hermione by the arm, knowing what her daughter was thinking. "And to stop you, before you do something you'll regret, I'm taking you away from here."

In the blink of an eye, Maeja had transported herself and Hermione to a land far to the east, beyond the gaze of the gods and goddesses atop Mount Olympus. 

"If you won't listen to me, then I see no other course of action!" Maeja thundered. 

Stepping away from Hermione, Maeja threw her arms up towards the stars above their heads. Around Hermione a house made of stout tree trunks suddenly grew around her, imprisoning Hermione where she stood.

"Mother! No! I beg you, please!" Hermione cried, her hands wrapping around the sturdy branches that barred her escape through a window, framed by more branches. Peering out between the bars made of live wood, Hermione spied her mother scowling at her. 

The goddess of the Grain shook her head in disappointment that her daughter would try to defy her. 

"This is for the best. There is acceptable fruit for you to eat if you're hungry." Maeja waved a careless hand. 

Hermione looked and noticed pears and clusters of grapes ripe and ready for eating along one wall. 

"I'll be back in the morning to let you out, daughter."

Without further word, Maeja disappeared, going back to Mount Olympus without Hermione.

"MOTHER!" 

Hermione wailed and screamed into the empty night, pounding her fists against the unmovable vegetation that entombed her upon the vast plain, lit only by the high moon above. Hermione was a goddess, but her mother was a more powerful goddess who controlled the plants and crops of the earth, the very same plants that now trapped Hermione. There was not even a lamp to provide her any additional light. Only the moonlight streaming through the small gaps between the trees and leaves illuminated Hermione's prison, her simple room dappled with spots of silvery light.

~O~

 

Severus was patrolling the borders of his kingdom when he noticed there was a new crack in the earth, where his subjects might escape to the world of living men. Onward he drove his chariot of black horses, as he donned his helmet of invisibility. 

As he brought his chariot to rest, the horses impatiently stamping the ground with their hooves, Severus heard the far-off sound of lamentation.

He was accustomed to such sounds, for such sorrow usually accompanied death. However, Death itself was nowhere near, as he was off collecting souls elsewhere.

Approaching the dense copse of trees that grew in the middle of a wide and open plain, Severus found a small gap in the branches. He peered inside to discover there was a room hiding a young woman, who was bent over and weeping pitifully, her face in her hands.

As Severus tried to get a better look at the prisoner, he wound up rustling some of the leaves of Hermione's prison, which caused her to look up.

Though her eyes were red, Severus noted what a great beauty she was. She had a long fall of wavy chestnut-colored hair that mimicked the intricate undulating waves of the grapevine trunk, and large brown eyes that shone luminously in the dark of night. Upon seeing her, he was smitten.

"Who's there?" Hermione asked.

Severus thought to say nothing, but to slip away, then reconsidered. "It is only me," he answered tentatively.

"Who are you? And can you help me escape? Oh, please, help me," she pleaded desperately.

Being the god of the Underworld, Severus had control of the ground and all that lay beneath it. He tried to move the earth so that the beautiful prisoner could escape from underneath, but the roots made an impenetrable floor, barring any and all escape.

Baffled as to who could do such work, Severus asked, "Who put you here?"

"Maeja, goddess of the Grain. I am Hermione, her daughter, and she has imprisoned me." Feeling helpless that not even this stranger could help her escape, she began to cry once more.

Only the work of another god or goddess could explain why Severus could not free her. To try to soothe her, he said, "Please, do not cry. Tell me why she has imprisoned you."

Hermione stopped her tears and rose to go to the one window that let her view the grassy plain beyond her confinement. "I will tell you, but only if I can see you, and you tell me who you are."

"I am here, but my helmet shields me from being seen. I prefer to go about not being seen, as I am often feared," Severus admitted.

"Oh, but please, at least tell me your name if you will not let me see you. Is it because you are fearsome looking that others are afraid of you?"

"No, my looks are not fearsome, though my name brings greater fear than the sight of me," he cryptically answered. "Perhaps of the two, it would be better for you to look upon me first."

Reaching up, Severus removed his helmet of invisibility. He shook out his long, straight ebony hair that fell straight as water off a cliff.

Hermione studied the god of the Underworld for a moment. "Your skin, it is so pale, like alabaster. Do you not go out into the sun?"

Severus turned his head away from her, grimacing to himself. "The sun does not shine where I rule." Turning back to Hermione who continued to stare at him so intently, he asked, "Does my skin frighten you?"

"No. It's just so pale and beautiful." She noticed his strong nose, which gave him a distinct profile she found masculine and striking. "May I touch your cheek? It looks so soft to the touch." She reached her hand through the bars of her window.

Tentatively, Severus leaned forward, and let Hermione's outstretched hand brush high along his cheek. 

Closing his eyes, he sighed and leaned into her touch. Never had a woman or goddess touched him so tenderly before.

"Now that you have seen me," he asked, "will you now tell me why your mother, Maeja, has imprisoned you here, so far away from Mount Olympus?" 

"I want to know and experience the joy of falling in love and all that it entails," Hermione admitted. She was unwilling to admit to this stranger her wish to become familiar with the act of making love as well, as that would be too forward, especially for a maiden to say such a thing to a strange man. "But since I am the Maiden, my mother has deemed that I should forever be denied such knowledge, as that is not my fate. Apollo and Hermes have asked for permission from Maeja to take me as a wife, but she has rejected their requests to court me. To stop me from defying her, she has taken me far away to this land I know not. She said she would be back in the morning to let me out. As for tomorrow night, I do not know if she intends to imprison me yet again."

Severus decided then that he would take Hermione as his wife, without Maeja's permission, but with Zeus' instead. She was eager to be a bride, and Severus would gladly make her his queen of his realm.

"Then if you do not know if you will be here tomorrow night, may I stay and talk with you, and keep you company, so you do not feel so alone?" Severus offered.

"Oh, yes, please. I am not used to being alone, and I am frightened, but less since you have joined me."

Through the night, Hermione and Severus talked. All the while, she did not ask for the stranger's name, nor ask where he ruled, thinking he was possibly a mortal king who ruled the land on which Hermione's prison sat.

As the dawn began to approach, Severus bid Hermione farewell, saying he had to continue to patrol his kingdom. He promised he would come back the next night in hopes of finding her once more to talk further.

Before Severus left, he reached his hand into the ground. When he pulled his hand back up, he had a bracelet of gold. It was made of the finest workmanship, delicately imitating the leaves and berries of the tree that parted them.

"Take this as a token of my affection, Hermione." Severus was god of the Underworld, and as such, he was master of all metals that were mined from the earth.

Hermione gasped in amazement at the fine gold bracelet he offered her. She now understood that this was no mortal king, but another god – but which god, she did not know. "It's lovely, kind sir."

Without another word, Severus donned his helmet of invisibility and mounted his chariot. His team of black horses snorted and whinnied before taking off. Once far enough away, Severus commanded the ground to part, and he returned to his kingdom of the Underworld where he ruled.

Exhausted and happy, Hermione pulled up a blanket of leaves and curled up on the soft mound of moss and lichen that made her bed. But even as tired as she was, Hermione was too elated to sleep. She felt stirrings in the core of her being as she stroked the bracelet upon her wrist. Her stomach was fluttering in a pleasant way, and her head was feeling slightly dizzy and light.

Eventually, Hermione drifted off, only to be awoken when her mother arrived mid-morning with bread and wine, and a large group of water nymphs.

"Good morning, Hermione." Maeja waved her arms and made the trees that imprisoned Hermione disappear back into the ground once more. "I hope you understood what I did was for your own protection."

Hermione did not think what her mother did was for her own protection, but only to satisfy her mother's own selfish desires to forever keep her a child in the ways of the world. She could have countered that for all her mother's efforts, she had met a strange man last night who made her feel romantic and wonderful thoughts and gave her a bracelet of gold. It would spite Maeja, but for Hermione to say anything would guarantee that her mother would imprison her yet again in yet another far away land. Then the god, whose name she did not know, would never find her again.

Instead, Hermione just continued to quietly pout, refusing to look her mother in the eye or smile.

"Since you are acting like a child, it is appropriate that you remain as innocent as one as well," Maeja huffed with impatience over her daughter's attitude, not noticing the gold encircling her wrist. "And since you are being childish, I've made sure you'll be watched like a child as well."

Petulantly, Hermione pushed her breakfast away, knocking over the wine carelessly, wasting it as it spilled onto the ground.

"I have brought both Nereids and Naiads to watch over you, as your personal nursemaids," Maeja announced, which caused the chorus of sea water and fresh water nymphs to titter and laugh at Hermione.

Being chastised so by her mother in front of others, caused Hermione's cheeks to go hot with embarrassment.

"I'll be back at the end of the day. Then I will put you back into your cell until I feel you have learned your lesson and will obey and accept your role as the Maiden, and to no longer challenge me or your fate." Without further word, Maeja disappeared, going off to attend to her duty of bringing fruits and grain to ripen for harvest, so that man would not starve.

Sitting cross-legged upon the ground, Hermione continued to pretend she was unhappy. She was secretly glad her mother was going to have her stay yet another night in this far-away land, so that the stranger could find her again.

"Come!" the Naiad, Cyene, beckoned. "There is a fresh lake nearby where the waters are cool, and we can bathe without being seen."

Upon the announcement that there was a lake nearby, the other Nereids and Naiads squealed with delight and took off, galloping and skipping as fast as possible to the lake. Hermione followed behind, head tilted towards the sky above and lost in memories of the mysterious god who had come to visit her. He had even let her touch his long black hair once, and it was as black as a raven's wing and silken as thistledown.

Hermione played and bathed in the cool waters, hiding the golden circlet on her wrist from the water nymphs and the questions that might arise from such a fine piece of golden jewelry. At the end of the day, she was ordered by her mother once more to stay the night in her sylvan prison amidst the wide open field yet again. Hermione was unwilling to apologize to her mother.

As darkness descended and the stars came out, Hermione watched through the branch bars for signs of the mysterious man to return. Only when no twilight remained did the ground nearby split open. Out came a chariot drawn by a team of four horses that matched the color of the night sky. There seemed to be no driver of the chariot, but suddenly the horses stopped, as if the reins had been pulled tightly.

Severus removed his helmet of invisibility first this time, letting Hermione see that he had indeed returned as promised. 

Through the bars, they held hands, their fingers intertwined.

"I have gone to see your father, Zeus," Severus announced.

"My father? Only gods can ascend to Mount Olympus." Her suspicion he was a god was now confirmed. "If you are a god, then who are you?" Hermione asked, still unable to ascertain who he was.

"I am Severus, ruler and king of the Underworld. I would make you my queen, if you will but come with me."

Shocked, Hermione yanked her hand free from his and retreated to the far side of her small cell. "Severus? But you rule the land of the dead. Am I to die to be your queen?" she asked, in horror of he who had won her heart.

"I would never harm you, and would exalt you as my queen, to be revered and obeyed. You shall live forever, ruling by my side in perpetuity, eternally." Severus could not help but feel a spear had been pushed through his heart with Hermione's initial rejection of him upon learning his name. He felt pain at the way she looked at him with timid, fearful eyes, cowering from his touch.

Softly, he entreated Hermione. "I should not be hated or feared. I am not Death itself, but god of the Underworld, ruler of those souls who have passed on into my kingdom. My kingdom shall never diminish, but grow ever larger throughout eternity. And what of death? Is it not when a plant fades that it is ready to be reaped and cut? As the scythe cuts the sheaf, the plant dies so that its seeds of the next generation are finally ripe for harvest, ready for sowing the next generation to come. And what of people? As the scythe cuts the wheat, so do the Fates regarding men. I do not decide who shall die and when."

Upon hearing his appeal, Hermione could not begrudge him. Someone had to rule the underworld; the sky, sea, and underworld had been divided and allotted by the drawing of straws. He had not picked this fate. And yet he was a king, a ruler, and he now bid her to rule by his side as his queen. 

Moving closer back to the window where Severus peered in, Hermione countered his argument by stating, "But men are not plants. Why should men die at all?"

Severus had sat many hours with the philosophers who had passed away and come to live in his realm. With the best, he philosophized and debated with them as to why death and his kingdom should exist at all. 

"If men did not die, then with each generation, more and more would be forced to live upon the land until too many crowded upon each other. Just as your flowers need space in which to have access to the sun and water, and space for their roots to grow, so it must be that people as well should not be overcrowded. The old must make way for the new, as it is in the forest and meadow, and so with beast and man."

Hermione pondered his words for a moment. Before she could reply, Severus continued on with his argument. 

"But I am as much about life as you are. When you plant seeds, do you not plant them under the ground, below the surface, within my realm?"

She nodded reluctantly. That is how her mother showed her how all plants must begin, either tree or herb or fruit or grain.

Severus smiled at Hermione. "And from underground, those seeds sprout life and push forth, and new life has begun from my world. A world that I would gladly share with you, and make you queen, and my wife."

Upon hearing his promise to make her his wife, the reservations Hermione still held had melted away. She ached to be held in Severus' arms, and long to finally know the joy of his lips pressed against hers.

"Yes, I will be your queen and wife. But how will you get me away from my mother? She imprisons me at night. By day, I am watched by water nymphs who are my guards," Hermione questioned, her hand reaching through the bars to stroke the cheek of her intended.

"That is why I went to your father, Zeus. He and I have hatched a plan." Severus' dark eyes glinted with delight.

~O~

**Part II**

~O~

As Hermione sat along the edge of the lake, while the Nereids and Naiads splashed about gaily, she secretly smiled to herself. She still could not believe Severus had brought a scroll – written by a philosopher long dead, who now lived in the Underworld – for her to read last night, after they had discussed their plan for escape. It seemed that despite him being perceived as a cold and unforgiving god, Severus was actually quite just, as he treated all his subjects fairly, and was tender with Hermione. He certainly would be faithful to Hermione, compared to some of the other gods who could not control their libidos.

As the sun rose higher, Hermione noticed a narcissus growing by the water's edge rise up and bloom. This was Severus' cue. He was warming the ground and tricking the bulbs to bloom out of season. Hermione rose and began to pick the trail of narcissi that led off to a field where Severus would come and meet her.

"Hermione! Where are you going?" Cyene asked.

"I'm just going to pick some of these pretty yellow flowers. I won't go far. I'll be right back," she lied, as she continued to bend over and pick the flowers that bloomed cheerily in the bright sunlight.

As she crested over the hill, Hermione saw the ground open up and four horses emerge from a large chasm in the earth. This time the horses were the color of the cloudy sky.

"Hurry!" Severus called out, urging Hermione to run, as he pulled off his helmet. "The clouds Zeus created to give us cover are about to part, and Helios will see us."

With haste, Hermione ran and leapt up into Severus' chariot and into his arms, as the sun began to shine brightly.

Holding the reins with one hand and Hermione in his other arm, Severus lashed at the reins, spurring his horses to bolt forth towards the gaping hole in the ground that was opening up.

"Hermione?" called Cyene as she came walking over the hill, only to see Severus hold Hermione firmly against his chest. "HERMIONE!" the Naiad screamed as his horses raced toward the hole in the earth that was swallowing them up. 

Nearby, a shepherd boy was tending a heard of black swine when the ground shook. The pigs, panicking, ran away from their caretaker and towards the hole that the chariot was racing towards.

Hermione was fearful, now they had been spotted. She began to cry, knowing her mother would try and come take her away from Severus.

As the chariot descended, some of the black pigs fell in behind them. 

"It looks like we'll have pigs for our wedding feast," Severus joked, pulling Hermione against his chest firmly.

Hermione finally laughed with relief, seeing the ground close up, feeling safe within Severus' arms. Her heart beat like a drum, never having felt a man or god hold her so close. She could feel the muscles of his chest, arms, and thighs press against her. She felt flush with excitement from feelings she had never experienced.

Lower and lower they descended until they approached a large gateway where a three-headed dog stood as sentinel. Upon reaching the gate, they dismounted from the chariot. Approaching Cerberus, the three-headed dog, the beast looked at Hermione briefly before bowing all three heads in respect of his new queen.

Walking into the underworld, the streets were lined with the souls of the dead, who cheered and threw petals of asphodel at the feet of their king and queen. After marching through the center of Elysium, they reached Severus' throne where he lifted a golden laurel crown.

"With this, crown, I make you my wife and my queen, to rule by my side for all the rest of eternity," Severus pronounced loudly so that all in his kingdom could hear.

As he set the crown upon her head, Hermione's eyes shone bright, as she felt overwhelmed and enthralled. She was finally able to see her husband by the bright fires that blazed in the gold braziers that flanked them.

His hair was indeed as black as ink, and his skin pale and smooth as the palest apple blossoms. His eyes were like jet, large and fathomless, yet full of love and warmth for Hermione.

Reverently, Severus enveloped Hermione in his arms. "And now a kiss to seal our matrimonial bond, my queen."

Hermione had never kissed before. She was nervous and afraid, yet eager. She had watched mortals do it many times, but never had the experience herself.

As Severus tipped her chin up with one hand, he felt her tremble like a leaf. "Do I frighten you, my bride?" he asked softly.

"I have never..." Hermione licked her lips and her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I..." She could not finish, her voice silenced by her nervousness.

"Then gently and slowly we shall tread forward as I teach you," he promised, and purposefully lowered his lips towards her.

The closer that Severus' face came towards hers, a sort of drowsiness she could not explain stole over her. Hermione was more excited than she had ever been, yet she could not keep her eyes open the closer her husband's face came towards hers. As he tilted his head sideways, she innately responded in kind by turning hers the other way.

Eventually, her eyes slipped shut and she felt the warmth of his breath brushing against her skin. As his lips softly pressed against her, she sighed aloud at the glorious sensation of it, but she wanted more.

Timidly, Hermione's hands slipped up the planes of her husband's chest. Her arms eventually wended their way around his neck, allowing him to draw her closer in their embrace.

Pressing his lips more firmly against hers, her lips parted with an audible sigh and his tongue grazed her lips. This was all so new, and Hermione was deliriously drunk on the simple sensation of kissing. She almost did not notice Severus scooping her up in his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.

"To the wedding bed," he whispered tenderly to her.

Severus carried Hermione past the golden doors to the bedchamber that shut with a resounding clangor, as all of Hades celebrated the marriage of their king to their new queen.

Setting his bride down, he noticed that she was shaking even more. "Do not fret. I promised that we shall go gently and slowly."

"I'm not scared," Hermione said, trying not to blush, but failing. She was embarrassed at her own eagerness. "I'm excited. I want more."

With a sly smirk, Severus grinned at his impatient bride. He swiftly took her up in his arms once more and soundly kissed her, this time parting her lips, to let his tongue begin exploring hers. And as she yielded to each new sensation and touch, her sighs and murmurs urged him on.

Finally, their lips parting, Hermione groaned with delectation, "More, my sweet husband. Teach me, for I wish to know all that you know and more."

More boldly and possessive his hands became until finally he reached for the brooches at her shoulder, securing Hermione's chiton about her person. She closed her eyes and turned her face away out of modesty.

"Open your eyes and see me," Severus requested.

Hermione understood that now she was married, this was part of the ritual she had watched so often from Mount Olympus. But now she was the one to be disrobed and felt unsure of herself, embarrassed by the thought of another god, even her husband, seeing her naked.

"I want you to see me, as I get to see you for the very first time in all the glory in which you were made."

Shyly, Hermione opened her eyes and watched as her husband undid the brooches at her shoulders and leisurely disrobed her. She was amazed at how his eyes grew larger and full of wonder.

Feeling spiritually and literally naked, she stood there under her husband's scrutiny. 

With reverence, Severus simply said, "Not even Aphrodite, freshly born from the sea foam, could compare to you, dearest wife. You are the perfection of womanhood."

A blush swiftly crept over Hermione at her husband's praises, and she grew even redder as her husband greedily pulled her into his arms to feverishly kiss her once more. His hands roamed about her soft exposed skin, cupping her firm breasts. His hands were the first to caress her. She reveled in the heady sensation of his touch, yet was unsure what to do, now that she was mindlessly drunk on passion and drowning in desire.

Tentatively, Hermione reached up and began fumbling with the brooch at her husband's shoulders, wishing to see him in all his natural splendor as well. Blindly she pulled at the pin and felt the cloth slip away from his body as their mouths clashed and devoured each other.

Finally, Hermione stopped kissing her husband long enough to regard her husband in his natural form. He was tall and pale and lithe, with well-defined muscles and long legs. He was a Greek god and built as one. From betwixt his legs, his manhood stood proudly, firm and thick, and Hermione suddenly remembered what mortal men did with their gifts, and where they placed them within mortal women.

Severus was a god, so endowed accordingly, which frightened Hermione. She wondered how he would fit inside of her, and if it would hurt, as many virgins she had watched complained so.

Advancing towards his bride, Severus gave her a reassuring smile. "Gently and slowly together," he reminded her.

Feeling his smooth pale skin rub against her as he kissed her once again, whatever fears of hesitation Hermione once had seemed to fly away with her cares. A white hot throbbing sensation grew between her legs, like some great ache or pang of hunger. And the more she felt her husband's body against hers, the more intense the insatiable want inside of her became.

Hermione was not hungry for food, not thirsty for wine, yet she craved for something. The more she lay beside her husband and let him caress her and kiss her, the more rapacious she became until she was in a near frenzy to have this indescribable thirst quenched.

"What is it, my bride?" Severus asked, noting his wife in a near state of hysterical delirium.

"You, I need all of you," Hermione begged, thinking that was the only way she could satisfy this near madness that made her claw at the bedclothes and grab at her husband's shoulders. No matter how deeply he kissed her, it was not enough.

"So much for slowly," he teased her.

Severus stroked the hair away from his bride's face as he settled between her thighs.

She felt the pressure of him nudging against her maidenhead. She was scared, yet equally anxious to finally feel him join with her.

Ardently yet tenderly, Severus became one with his wife as he filled her.

Hermione cried out in a mixture of slight discomfort, but mostly from the joy of finally understanding why all those mortal women cried out time and time again. Now she was experiencing herself the pleasure and joy of joining with the one she loved physically and spiritually. And so Hermione cried out herself, screaming her husband's name over and over as he plowed into her repeatedly. He was urged on by her hands guiding his pace, as he filled and fulfilled her, consummating their martial bond as husband and wife.

With a great groan, Severus came and filled Hermione with his seed.

Lying together side by side, they pondered the moment in silence.

"Speak, dear wife, my glorious Hermione," Severus bade her.

"I am thinking how happy I am, and that of any god I could have married, I am happy to be in love with you," she gushed before peppering his brow with playful kisses.

Severus was overwhelmed with love for his beautiful and brilliant bride. Not only was she perfection in his eyes, but her mind was sharp. She would serve him well as his queen, as he did not want just any dunderhead to rule his kingdom with him.

"My glorious bride: Ask and it shall be yours," he promised.

"Right now, I wish to stay in this wedding bed until thoroughly satisfied," she confessed with a smile that hinted of her desires that had yet to be fully sated.

"There is a wedding feast that awaits us," he reminded her.

"The feast can wait until this hunger I have for you no longer burns with urgency," she confessed. Then she straddled Severus' hips, pressing the length of her body against his in hopes of rousing his passions yet once more.

~O~

As the sun set, Maeja returned to the place in which she had left her daughter, Hermione, with the Naiads and Nereids. When questioned where her daughter was, the Nereids and Naiads were dumbfounded and could not answer.

Only Cyene, the Naiad, seemed to indicate something was amiss. However, as she tried to speak, she could say nothing. Instead, she dissolved into a torrent of tears that turned into a river that flowed towards the area of ground where Hermione was swallowed up.

Furious that the other Nereids and Naiads had done nothing to protect her daughter, or even notice she was missing, Maeja turned them all into hideous creatures. They would forever have plumed bodies and scaly feet, cursed to live in the sea off of Capri, luring sailors to their deaths with their feeble cries as Sirens.

Despondent, Maeja began to wander the earth aimlessly, looking for her daughter. Grief-stricken, she refused to tend to her duties as goddess of the Grain until her daughter was found.

As the days passed, stores of grain that families and villages had saved withered and turned to mealy dust. Fruit on the trees rotted and spoiled, and fields of grasses died. Animals starved for lack of grazing, and men cried out to Zeus and the other gods for help from this famine.

Hecate came across Maeja wandering lost in the wild in a perpetual state of mourning, her regal robes in tatters.

"Maeja! She of the Grain, giver of food. What has happened that you are in such a state of despair?" Hecate asked her plainly.

Maeja told of her quarrel with her daughter and her disappearance under the lax watch of the nymphs she had now cursed.

"Fear not. Helios – whose ever watchful eye sees all upon the earth where he shines his brilliant light – may have witnessed what has happened to Hermione. Go to him and ask him if he has seen your daughter." Hecate then kissed Maeja upon the temple to bless her in her quest to find her daughter.

As Helios alighted in the west from his daily trek, he was confronted with a hysterical Maeja. "Helios! You have seen all that happens upon the earth. Nine days ago, did you spy upon my daughter, Hermione, and what may have happened to her?" she begged the god of the Sun.

"I did see Hermione. For she was running towards a chariot pulled by four horses driven by Severus. She leapt upon his chariot before it dove back into the ground to return to his world in which he rules," Helios truthfully told her, as he saw it.

Aghast, Maeja refused to accept the idea that her daughter would willingly go to a land populated by the dead and where the sun never shone. "You lie. This cannot be! My daughter would never agree to willingly be with Severus, king of the dead. She does not even know him. It is impossible!" she insisted, shaking her head and shaking her fists into the air with rage. Horrified and unable to stand the truth, Maeja thought that Severus had abducted Hermione against her will, and had taken her by force.

Maeja began to wail, fearing that her daughter had been raped. She could only imagine the pitiful wails of her daughter trying to fight off the king of the Underworld as he forced himself upon her. Maeja rent her clothes as she wept, for now she was certain her daughter was no longer a maiden, and her purpose as a goddess was now lost.

Knowing that to travel to the Underworld was a perilous one, even for a god or goddess, Maeja went to Zeus. If anyone could force Severus to return her daughter to the land of the living, it would be him.

Approaching Zeus, as he sat upon his throne, Maeja cried, "She is gone! My daughter, Hermione, is gone. Helios has said that your brother, Severus, had stolen her and dragged her unwillingly to the Underworld. I demand you return my daughter by my side!" 

Not wishing to confess that he had conspired with Severus regarding the taking of Hermione as his bride, Zeus asked, "Are you sure she was taken against her will?" 

Maeja would not entertain the concept, even though Hermione had earlier insisted she wish to know of love and the act of it. Horrified that her daughter was in the Underworld, and with Severus, whom she thought of unkindly as an unfeeling and macabre monster, Maeja was even more inconsolable.

Storming back to Zeus, Maeja demanded, "You must demand the return of Hermione to me."

"Truly, there is little I can do. When Severus, Poseidon and I divided the world, I was given domain over the sky, Poseidon to rule the waters, and Severus to be king of the Underworld, realm of the dead. If she is there, then she is under his rule. I can no more order him to surrender her than Severus could to order anyone here in my kingdom," Zeus countered, hoping that would settle the matter.

"If you do not bring my daughter back," Maeja thundered ominously, "then I shall let all men starve to death. Then you can rule over nothing, and no offerings shall ever be made to you again. All of mankind will perish!"

Just as food disappeared from the table of men during Maeja's mourning, so did the offerings to Zeus diminish. Part of Zeus's strength came from the offerings given in honor to him. Yet as the offerings waned, so had his powers as of late. Having heard the recent pleas of men to end their starvation and suffering, Zeus reconsidered Maeja's demands.

Now seeing where the situation stood, and not wishing to lose any more power, Zeus summoned Hermes.

Bowing before the highest of the gods of the Sky, Hermes asked, "How may I serve you, great Zeus?"

"Hermes, my messenger and emissary, I have a great task for you. You must travel to the Underworld and bid my brother, Severus, to return Hermione unto her mother, Maeja. Maeja is convinced her daughter was taken there against her will." As Zeus explained the situation to Hermes, he included other aspects to include in his case for Severus to return Hermione to her mother.

~O~

For days, Hermione and Severus solely occupied their wedding bed. They could not bother to tear themselves away from each other for a feast held in honor of their nuptials. They explored the many varied joys of conjugal bliss, eschewing food, a secondary hunger to their first for each other.

A loud rap upon the bedchamber door signaled that someone had come to seek an audience with the king.

Hermione, fearful that it was her mother, clung tightly to her husband. "It must be Maeja, it must be her to try and take me away," she fretted.

"We are husband and wife. There is little anyone can do to part us now," he assured his bride.

Now as they sat upon their thrones, side-by-side, the king and queen received their guests, welcoming Hermes and Hecate in the great hall.

Bowing before the couple, Hermes said, "Severus, king of the Underworld, I come to you as an emissary of Zeus. I beg on his behalf the return of Hermione to her mother, Maeja, goddess of the Grain."

Looking down his long nose at Hermes, he stared coldly at this god from the upper world with his golden skin. "You know the rule that once one has passed into my realm, with the exception of you Hermes and Hecate, they forever become subjects of this world."

Speaking this time, Hecate interjected, "That is true, but Maeja, goddess of the Grain, insists that Hermione, her daughter, was brought against her will, abducted by you, Severus."

Throwing back her head, Hermione laughed lightly at such accusation. "I was not abducted. Severus courted me and won my heart, and I gladly went with Severus upon his promise to make me his wife and queen."

Hermes and Hecate both gasped at the shock of this news, not so much that Hermione agreed to become Severus' bride, but in anticipation of how Maeja would react to such news.

"Be that as it may, Zeus insists that Hermione returns to her mother's side," Hermes insisted.

"And why would I want to leave my husband's side, when I do not wish to return to my mother? I love my husband. Why should a wife be forced to leave her husband? Who is she that would break a marital bond?" Hermione asked, wondering why anyone would try to part her from her love.

"Since your disappearance, your mother has neglected all her duties as goddess. All grain, fruit, and plants in the world above have withered, died, or rotted away. Men starve and die, pleading for salvation from this starvation caused by your mother as she wallows in grief over your disappearance."

"Then you can tell Maeja, that Hermione has been found and is no longer missing, and is happy by my side." Severus held tighter onto Hermione's hand, unwilling to let her go.

"But that is just it. Maeja has doomed all mankind to starve until Hermione returns to her," Hermes countered. "Maeja would allow all the world to die of starvation in protest of her absence. Do you not notice how the gates were full of those flooding in who have died from lack of food, filing into your realm since Hermione left the world above?"

Now that Severus had a moment to survey his kingdom, he did notice a great many more had arrived at a steadily increasing rate since his wedding day.

Hermes continued on, presenting Zeus' argument for the return of Hermione to her mother. "And if all die, there will be no one left to honor the gods. No more sacrifices, and thus our powers will wane, and the children of Prometheus will be no more."

Hermione bent her head and wept, crying for those who had died due to her mother's neglect. It was because she had run off with Severus, and for Maeja's vengeful wrath to punish all of mankind because Hermione was gone.

"I cannot be the cause for all men, women, and children to starve and die, because my mother in unable to let me go," she sobbed.

Severus did not doubt the sincerity of Maeja to punish all of mankind until Hermione was returned to her mother's side. And knowing his wife's tender heart, he knew she could not bear the knowledge that she could stop the starvation and death of mortal men in her name.

"If it must be done, then I see no other way," Severus pronounced with great somberness, not wishing to be parted from his bride and queen.

Hermione threw herself at her husband and clung at him. She wailed at the prospect that when she had finally learned about the joys of love and experienced its enthralling mysteries, she must be parted from Severus.

"Please, is there any way I can stay?" Hermione begged pitifully as her cheeks ran wet with tears.

Hecate stepped forward. "Has any food or drink passed between your lips since you have arrived here, Hermione?"

Turning her head aside, and admitting with a secret smile, "No, my husband and I have not left our marriage bed to join in the wedding feast."

Hecate laughed at the lustfully passionate exuberance for the goddess who was once the Maiden, the epitome of innocence and purity. "Here! Eat of your feast and you might be able to stay. As is tradition among gods and mortals, to eat the fruit of one’s captor means that one must return to that captor or country," Hecate recommended, guiding Hermione towards a table laden with bounty.

The black pigs that had fallen into the earth behind their chariot had been roasted and lay upon huge platters. Their meat was juicy, and their skin crackling and golden. Porringers laden with overflowing fruits of black figs, dates, and pomegranates abounded.

_Severus & Hermione as Hades & Persephone by Natasa Ilincic, commissioned by Betz_

Reaching for a ripe pomegranate that had split open, Hermione peeled the fruit open. Severus attended his wife by quickly pulling out six pomegranate seeds and fed them to her.

"So that you may return to my side, my bride, my queen." 

Upon her chewing and swallowing the succulent seeds, Severus kissed her one last time, tasting the sweetness upon her red-stained lips.

With her twin torches held aloft, Hecate became Hermione's escort back to the land of the living above, guiding the goddess back to her mother.

Up the three gods rose: Hecate, Hermione, and Hermes. Through the gates past Cerberus, guardian of the gates to the Underworld, past and onward, they traveled until they rose up into the light. Then Hermione was brought forward towards her mother, Maeja, who sat upon her throne awaiting the return of her daughter. All the while, Hermione cried.

As Hermione's feet touched the earth and her tears watered the ground, vegetation sprung forth, and flowers and trees grew in her footsteps. She had transformed from the Maiden to the goddess of Spring and Rebirth with her return to the land of the living. 

Upon reaching her mother, who sat beside Zeus upon Mount Olympus, her father questioned her, "Hermione, have you eaten fruit or grain or meat during your time in the Underworld?"

Squaring her shoulders and meeting her mother's eyes with defiance, she admitted, "Yes, I ate of the pomegranate at my wedding feast with my husband, Severus."

Upon hearing that Hermione had eaten while in the underworld, Maeja cried out. "No! You should not have eaten of their fruits."

"I have willingly tasted the fruits of which you have denied me, Mother. I have known the sweetness of love, the salt from the skin from my husband as he joined with me, the bitterness of knowing you have let men die in your selfishness to keep me by your side, and the sourness of being parted from my husband unwillingly. In the hope that I may return to my husband's side, I ate six pomegranate seeds, which he fed to me, and I consumed willingly."

With a heavy sigh, Zeus knew that he could not part Hermione and Severus forever. There are some laws that not even a god can break. "Then I decree that four months a year, Hermione will return to her husband, Severus. She will reside there by his side and lie in his bed as his wife, and rule at his queen of the Underworld. The rest of the year, Hermione must remain by her mother's side, so that man shall not perish away."

~xXx~xXx~xXx~

Hermione roused herself from her lucid dream. She had not slept, but as Lygaeus told the tale, she did imagine quite clearly herself at the Maiden and Severus, the Potioneer in the village with the long black hair and distinguished nose, as king of the Underworld and her husband.

"As so, children of Hecate, when Hermione returns unwillingly from her husband's side each spring, she cries, which is why the rains come in the spring, and the vegetation dies or slumbers in the winter," Lygaeus finished his tale.

Hermione heard the last of the tale, but was too perplexed to ponder the deeper meaning of the story just told. She could almost taste the pomegranate juice upon her lips, yet she had not eaten at all during the centaur's story.

There was no time to contemplate her mysterious hallucination, as her adoptive mother beckoned her. "Come, Hermione! Help me bring these blossoms back home."

Once the plum blossoms were steeping in the vat of wine, Hestia said, "Let us both go to the village, for I need to buy a potion or two."

Hermione quickly grabbed the borrowed scroll and joined her mother.

Once at Severus' shop, while Hestia browsed the Potioneer's brews and elixirs, Hermione handed the scroll back to its owner.

"That was a very interesting scroll. A brew to induce prophetic dreams," Hermione noted curiously at the coincidence. Recalling her dream, she tried not to remember the vision of Severus, who looked exactly like her dream version of Hades, completely nude. A blush crept upon her cheek as she remembered the feel of his skin against hers.

"Yes, a brew that one can impregnate into paper, and absorb through touch, like a piece of parchment or a scroll," Severus informed her with an arch of his brow, carefully handling only the ends of the scroll she returned to him.

Hermione gave Severus an even more curious look, before shaking her head and dismissing a certain notion that was forming in her mind.

"I have another scroll that I have obtained. It is a Strengthening Solution that uses pomegranates. Would you like to read that scroll and attempt to brew it yourself?" Severus kept his face impassive, but a smile quirked at the corner of his lips when Hermione shot him another look of suspicion.

"What a coincidence that you mentioned pomegranates. Lygaeus was just telling us the story of the Greater Mysteries, in which I am to be initiated in a few months' time. Just before the goddess of the Underworld made her trip back to her mother, she consumed the fruit. Perhaps that fruit gave her the strength to pass from the land of the dead back to the land of the living?" Hermione proposed in theory.

"Very astute. Not many would understand such subtleties." Severus watched as Hestia returned back to him with a purchase. Turning to the elder witch, Severus remarked, "Your daughter would make an excellent wife to any Potioneer, with her gift for knowledge and understanding. And any Potioneer would be happy to have a wife with a mind such as Hermione's."

Hestia, who had not been so blind as to notice the growing and shy affection developing between the two, casually remarked, "Hmm, indeed. And since Hermione is of age and will be eligible to marry, after her initiation this spring, I will have to consider if there are any Potioneers worthy of her hand." The quizzical arch of her brow let Severus know she understood his not so vague hint. It also said that she was open to discussing marital plans in the near future, since he was of an acceptable older age with property to take a young bride.

After coin was exchanged, Severus fetched the latest scroll to lend to Hermione.

Handing the scroll over to Hermione, he warned her, "This potion may be a bit tricky to learn. It takes one of great experience to brew it correctly."

"And what should happen should I do it wrong? What if it is too complex for me to attempt?" Hermione fretted, tilting her head down to look at the scroll instead of looking Severus in the eye. She remembered her imaginings of him kissing her.

Tilting her head up with a finger under her chin, he said sweetly, and full of so much promise, "Then gently and slowly we shall tread forward as I teach you."

Hermione's heart beat quickly, remembering the words of the king as he seduced his bride, and the phantom feeling of his mouth upon her skin.

As Hermione craned her neck up and tilted her head, noticing how Severus was drawing his face closer to hers, there was the distinct clearing of a throat beside them.

"Ahem!" Hestia interrupted intentionally.

Physical exchanges between two who had not yet entered into a formal marriage arrangement were just not done. It was certainly not proper, even in Umbria where Severus came from. 

Hermione stepped away and smiled shyly at Severus, who bowed his head towards her as the pair of witches left his shop.

Severus chuckled to himself, remembering all too well his own vivid dream, and the sweet taste of Hermione's lips on his in their wedding bed. Then he busied himself with the latest potion that was bubbling away in a cauldron.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Nat for the wonderful fan art she created capturing the tenderness between our lovers.  
> http://unripehamadryad.deviantart.com/


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